Don't Dance So Fast
by yellow-umbrellas
Summary: "What happened?" Blaine asked when Kurt still didn't continue. "Kurt, I just need you to tell me, or I'm going to make something up that's probably much, much worse than reality and when you give me the cold shoulder it just makes me nervous because I know you never do that and I-" Blaine was rambling but Kurt cut him off. "Blaine, I have cancer," b[TW: character death]/b


**Don't Dance So Fast**

* * *

"Hey baby," Blaine cooed, kissing Kurt quickly on the lips and he shut his locker door. Kurt stared at him blankly, his lips tingling. "How was your doctor's appointment?" He asked. Kurt glanced to his side, watched all the students running past him in a haste he hadn't felt in a long time. He stayed stoic as Blaine looked at him expectantly, tugging at the strap of his book bag.

"'S'fine," Kurt breathed, grinning gently and insincerely. Blaine eyed him warily but nodded, not wanting to push if Kurt didn't want to talk. He'd been getting sick a lot lately, waking in the night drenched in sweat, calling Blaine with shaking hands to ask him to talk him back to sleep, throwing up for no reason. Blaine, his father, Rachel and Carole were all insisting that he go to the doctor, but Kurt had been putting off; every time he set foot inside a Medicentre or drove past a hospital, memories of his mother unearthed themselves from deep inside his heart. Blaine wrapped his arm around Kurt's waist as they made their way to the choir room but the rushing in Kurt's ears didn't stop.

* * *

When Kurt had phoned Blaine at 6:54 AM to tell him that "they needed to talk," Blaine's mind was on a constant back-and-forth between _he's breaking up with me_ and _oh god, what happened to Kurt?_ He thought it would be the gentlemanly thing to do to stop at Starbucks and pick up their usual (and it _certainly_ had nothing to do with the time Kurt called him). When he rapped his knuckles gently on Kurt's door and he could hear him bounding down the stairs from outside. Blaine rubbed his eyes groggily and Kurt tore the door open, practically dragging him upstairs and into his bedroom without so much as a hello.

Blaine stumbled behind him, doing his best not to spill their coffee.

"Kurt, booty calls are usually reserved for the evening," Blaine groaned but Kurt didn't smile, didn't chuckle lightheartedly. He shut the door behind them and stared at the cups of coffee in Blaine's hands.

"You brought me coffee..." Kurt mumbled like it was something Blaine never did, like he was shocked by the gesture. Kurt could feel his throat tightening. "You always bring me coffee," Blaine's brow furrowed as tears welled in Kurt's eyes. He placed the tray on Kurt's dresser and turned back to him, placing his hand on Kurt's forearm where he had them wrapped around his stomach.

"Kurt, baby, what's wrong?" Blaine asked, suddenly frantic. Kurt's eyes darted up to Blaine's, his entire face crumpling as he collapsed against him. He was panting and choking out sobs and Blaine didn't know what to do. He wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist tentatively, trying to figure out if today's date meant anything or if something had been going on that Kurt hadn't told him about.

He eased him over to the bed, pushing Kurt down gently when his knees buckled against the frame. Blaine shifted so they were seated at the edge of Kurt's mattress, Kurt's forehead against his shoulder, his nose turned towards Blaine's neck with his fingers fisted into his Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy t-shirt. He hadn't time to change, but suddenly Blaine was feeling underdressed. "Kurt, you have to tell me what's going on," Blaine said gently, and Kurt sniffled once against him before pulling up, smoothening Blaine's shirt down against his chest. Blaine looked down, hands resting on Kurt's biceps, watching as his fingers ran deftly across him. The cotton was soft and pilling, stretched at the neck from when Blaine had pulled it over his knees.

"Sweetheart, please," he said again when Kurt didn't respond. His fingers were still stroking over Blaine's shirt and it was starting to give him goose bumps. Kurt cleared his throat and dropped his hands to his lap, running his fingers over his denim-clad thighs over and over again. His palms were sweating and he wondered if Blaine could tell. Blaine tilted his head down, raising his eyebrows patiently.

"Remember how I went to the doctor's the other day?" Kurt asked, his voice low, quiet, smooth. Blaine nodded, humming out a yes. Kurt started to pick at his nails, pulling at his thumbnail where it had caught on his seatbelt a few nights before and cracked. It was a nervous habit of his, one Blaine had only seen twice in his life; the night they first had sex and just now. Kurt only pulled it out of his Bag of Insecure Tricks when he was feeling very self-conscious.

"What happened?" Blaine asked when Kurt still didn't continue. "Kurt, I just need you to tell me, or I'm going to make something up that's probably much, much worse than reality and when you give me the cold shoulder it just makes me nervous because I know you _never_ do that and I-" Blaine was rambling but Kurt cut him off.

"Blaine, I have cancer,"

And it was like Blaine hit a wall, like he'd been walking down the street and suddenly the sidewalk and the sky switched, like someone had poured ice on him during a hot shower. His ears were ringing and he was having trouble remembering how to breathe.

"They told me that I have acute leukemia and that's why I've been throwing up all the time," Kurt said slowly, still picking at his nails, but he was saying so calmly, like it was nothing. Like they were talking about the weather or the newest issue of Vogue. But Blaine wasn't listening, just hearing the things he was saying. His mouth felt dry and his skin felt like it was stretched too tightly over his bones. He wondered if he was gripping Kurt's arms too tightly, if he looked like a fool or if Kurt was waiting for him to say something.

"Blaine, will you please just look at me?" Kurt asked shyly, his voice quiet and thin.

"Yeah," Blaine breathed and it sounded stupid to his ears. Kurt looked up at him and brushed a tear off his cheek that he hadn't realised was falling.

"Please don't cry..." Kurt murmured. Blaine nodded, sniffling once before sitting up straighter and talking Kurt's shaking hands in his own. "Listen, Blaine..." Kurt began. "If... I-if you can't do this, I get it," his eyes were darting around the room, never meeting Blaine's gaze. "If this is all going to be too much for you to handle, then... That's ok. I wouldn't blame you," Blaine bit his lip and stared at Kurt's mouth. "So, this is me giving you an out," Kurt cleared his throat. "If you can't do this, then here's your chance,"

"Kurt, I would never leave you," Blaine said but it seemed robotic and he didn't realise he was speaking. His brain caught up to lips and he kept going. "I'm not... I'm not going to _abandon_ you, I wouldn't never do that," Blaine's words were quite but fierce and sincere. "I love you,"

"I love you too," Kurt smiled. "A-and I'm not asking you to decide right now, you can think this over for a while. I mean, who would want to date the terminally-ill bald gay kid, right?" He tried to sound teasing and light but it came off forced and his voice broke at the end. Blaine could practically feel his heart ripping in two. Kurt's face crumpled and Blaine cupped Kurt's flushed cheeks in his hand, kissing his damp skin, his forehead, his eyelids, _everything_.

"Can I ask you something?" Blaine said and Kurt nodded. He paused for a moment, collecting the words on his tongue. "H... How are you so calm about all of this?" Kurt chuckled a watery little laugh and looked up at Blaine.

"Because it hasn't hit me yet," He said genuinely. "None of what I just said to you means anything to me right now," Kurt swallowed and chewed on the inside of his lip.

"Who all knows?"

"You, my dad and Carole," Kurt listed, staring at the wall that separated his room from Finn's and wondered if he had listened to their conversation. "And me," he added and Blaine couldn't help but smile. "_I_ know,"

"You're gonna be fine, you know that, though, right?" Kurt hummed out a humourless chuckle and nodded once.

"I guess," Kurt breaths. "Will you um... Will you tell the rest of the Glee club with me? Y-you don't have to say anything, just, like, hold my hand and make sure I don't throw up, or something," Blaine started at him fondly, and nodded.

"Of course I will," He kissed him gently and handed Kurt his coffee and tried to pretend that nothing felt different.

* * *

"Mister Schuester?" Kurt called softly from the back row of chairs, his hand raised just above his shoulder. Will turned to him and nodded. "I-if you don't mind, could Blaine and I... make an announcement?" Blaine fingers tightened around Kurt's free hand.

"Don't tell me Brokeback Mountain over here are getting married too," Santana said wryly, filing her index finger intently.

"Nothing like that," Kurt assured as he stepped down from the risers and stood in front of his friends. Blaine followed suit, one hand resting on the small of Kurt's back. He cleared his throat and looked around at each and every one of them and hoping they were all listening. Kurt swallowed once before taking a deep breath.

"As many of you may know, I went to the doctor's the other day," Kurt folded and unfolded his hands in front of himself, staring at the linoleum. "They stuck me full of needles, did some blood work and two nights ago, they phoned me back," Kurt could feel tears stinging at his eyes and refused to look up at anyone before him. "Turns out... I have cancer," He felt his voice break and the end and hoped no one else heard it.

Everyone gasped, some people saying his name softly, others just staring. He watched as Rachel ran out of the choir room, hand covering her mouth. Brittany leaned towards Santana, who had dropped the nail file on her lap, and whispered, "I thought Kurt was a Sagittarius?"

"But I need all of you to do me favour," the chatter fell silent, everyone seated straighter now and Blaine looked at him. "I need you all to just... Not treat me any differently. As much as I would love for this to be a way to get all the solos for the rest of the year, it can't be," Kurt looked Mr. Schuester, then at the ceiling, gathering his thoughts. "I... I just want you to make me feel like you always have, which is normal. Like I'm not any different. I don't want anyone's pity. The only thing I want from you guys is your friendship, because I think that's what I'm going to need more than anything else,"

* * *

Kurt shut his locker door just as Finn sauntered up to him, his brow furrowed. Kurt looked at him once before feeling his heart sink. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you..."

"What the fuck, man?" Finn snapped, slamming himself against the lockers and hitting his head against the steel. "I thought you trusted me. You told Burt and my mom and Blaine, but you couldn't tell me before you said it to the rest of the glee club?" He was shouting and Kurt just stood there and took it.

"I know. I just... I couldn't tell you,"

"I-is this like that movie, you know, Remember How to Walk, or something?" Finn stuttered. "Rachel made me watch it once a-and they get married or whatever and then she dies, and I know she had some funky illness like Lufthansa or whatever because it didn't end good and Rachel wouldn't stop crying for like, two hours,"

Kurt couldn't help but smile. "First of all, it's called A Walk to Remember and somewhere right now, Melanie Moore is crying. Secondly, Lufthansa is an airline; I have _leukemia._ And thirdly, you mean that it didn't end _well,"_

"Whatever!" Finn shouted. "I'm pissed off, ok? I'm pissed at coach Beiste for benching me in the last game, I'm pissed at Rachel for being pissed at me, and I'm pissed at the world for trying to kill my brother!" He slammed his fist into the locker adjacent and Kurt couldn't help but feel his throat tighten. Kurt stepped forward slowly and hugged him. It was awkward and Finn didn't hold him very tightly or for very long but when Kurt pulled back, he saw tears in his brother's eyes.

"Don't cry, Finn," Kurt pleaded, and Finn swiped at his nose with the sleeve of his t-shirt, shaking his head once before pushing off his locker and walking away.

* * *

Kurt lay on his bed, leafing through college application pamphlets to NYADA and wondered if he'd ever have the chance to get in. If there was still any point in bothering to apply. Kurt thought about his mother and how he'd felt when she'd told him the exact same news he'd been telling his friends. He thought about Rachel and his father and everyone he loved but for the first time, he didn't think about Blaine. He was afraid of what might happen if he let his mind wander there. He didn't want to think about Blaine being alone and didn't want to think of himself without Blaine. In his mind, Kurt had convinced himself that when his time came, whenever that may be, Blaine would still be with him. He wasn't sure how he'd come up with it, what convoluted way he'd skewed his thoughts, and if you asked him to explain, he wouldn't be able to. But it was the truth that he couldn't picture life, nor death, frankly, without Blaine next to him.

* * *

"Dad, I really don't want to do this," Kurt said softly, holding onto his left arm with the hand of his right.

"I know, bud. You'll be fine, though. It's gonna help," His father's voice sounded far away and anxious.

"You'll be just fine, baby," Blaine's sounded the same as his father's; removed and distant. Unsure and insincere.

"All my hair's gonna fall out," Kurt said softly, turning into Blaine's chest. "I'm gonna lose a tonne of weight and none of my clothes are gonna fit and I'm gonna be pale and ugly. Blaine, I'm gonna be so ugly,"

"Nonsense," Blaine insisted, kissing Kurt's forehead. "You'll always be beautiful," Kurt smiled weakly. "Besides," Blaine continued. "If you lose a bunch of weight and your clothes don't fit, that just means you can buy more."

"C'mon kiddo, siddown," Burt said gruffly, patting Blaine on the shoulder. Kurt sighed but sat down in a large corduroy armchair that reminded him too much of the one his dad sat in at home. A middle-aged nurse came up to Kurt with a soft, wrinkled grin on her lips.

"Alright, Kurt, I'll need you to take off your sweater," she said sweetly. He nodded, tugging it off as Blaine held out his hand to Kurt. Blaine twined their fingers together, Kurt gripping tightly before relaxing. The nurse (whose name was Laura) took Kurt's free arm, rubbing a sterile pad against the dip of his inner elbow. Blaine watched as Kurt's face scrunched up when she fed the needlepoint into his skin. He held Blaine's hand as tight as he could.

* * *

"Kurtie..." It was a light, high voice from behind him that made him turn around. Sugar, Quinn and Brittany all stood before him, looks of sympathy painted on their faces.

"Hey, girls," Kurt said softly though his heart was tightening in his chest.

"Kurt, remember how I told you that heart attacks are from loving too much?" Brittany asked and Kurt nodded, smiling. "Well, I couldn't remember what cancer is the cause of but I know that I love you enough for 10 heart attacks," Kurt bit his lip and smiled, pulling the blonde into a tight hug that squished his sides.

"Thanks, Britt," Kurt mumbled, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear where it had fallen out of her ponytail. She nodded, smiled, and skipped down the hall. Sugar just stared at him for a moment before her face crumpled and she hugged him too. She ran off before he could say anything and then Quinn was the only left.

"I guess you of all people would know the most about how I feel," Kurt said gently and Quinn breathed out a small laugh, leaning back against the lockers beside Kurt.

"I totally get what you said about the pity," She said. "It was the worst part of all the bullshit that's happened to me. When I was pregnant and when I was in the accident, I couldn't look at anyone or talk to anyone without feeling like they just felt sorry for me,"

"I feel like I can't have a conversation with anyone without thinking they're looking at me differently," Kurt admitted, tugging his shirt straight. "I don't want this to be the first thing people think of when they see me. It should just be a part of me, not all of me. You know?"

"I do," She said.

* * *

It happened first when they were kissing on Kurt's bed, just a few days after he'd gotten out of the hospital from one of his rounds of chemotherapy. Blaine's hand was cupping Kurt's cheek, kissing down his neck when he moved to tug at his hair. And then it came out.

"Oh my God," Kurt groaned, pushing himself onto his elbows and starting in bewilderment and fear and the mousy-brown locks in Blaine's fingers. He ran his hands through his hair, his breath quickening as he felt more of if fall out against his fingers. "Okay, I think it hit me now," Kurt panted, staring at his hands, at the pillowcase. "I'm gonna be bald and it's gonna be awful,"

_She told me that if I even talked to one of Mr. Schue's kids, that she'd shave my head, and I just can't rock that look. I mean, even Justin Timberlake is growing his fro back._

"It's real now," Kurt panted, his throat hot and vice-like. "Blaine, I... I have _cancer," _It was like the words he was saying were bitter and sour, unpleasant to speak.

"Hush, baby," Blaine soothed, shaking his hand off into his garbage can next to his bed. Kurt was still panting frantically underneath him, all this realisation smacking him right in the face.

"I'm so scared," Kurt sobbed and Blaine kissed his tears away, pulling Kurt into his arms and stroking his hair, trying not to notice when some of it shed with his touch.

"Don't be scared," Blaine whispered. "There's nothing to be worried about, you're gonna be fine," and for a moment Kurt believed it, and so did Blaine because he said it so simply, like there was nothing he needed to be worried about at all. It was like he'd just skinned his knee or gotten a deep sliver.

"No, I'm not," Kurt choked, "I'm gonna die," He wished he hadn't said it the moment the worlds left his mouth because Blaine's entire body quivered against him, his chest heaving down against Kurt's.

"No you aren't," Blaine said forcefully. "You're not leaving me that easily,"

"Just don't forget about me when you're old and married with a family and a dog and a great husband. Just promise me you'll tell them about me," Kurt sobbed.

"Kurt, stop it," Blaine pleaded. "Stop saying that. Stop talking like that. Please. Everything is going to be fine," He said again.

"How do you know?" Kurt shouted, sitting up and throwing his legs over the side of the bed so his feet were on the floor.

"Because you're the strongest person I've ever met and you're too good to let this take you,"

"I just can't stop thinking about all the things I've never done..." Kurt sighed.

"Stop thinking you won't get to do them," Blaine sighed, hooking his chin on Kurt's shoulder.

"But what if I don't," he whispered. Blaine exhaled slowly, kissing Kurt's cheek.

"Let's not talk about this anymore, ok?"

"Why not?" Kurt asked, but it came out harsher than he intended. "We need to stop avoiding this sooner or later,"

"Because I'm having trouble even _thinking_ about this, let alone talking about it," Blaine's voice was rising and it was almost frightening to Kurt; he never shouted. Ever. "Kurt," softer now, "I don't want to think about a world where that guy I'm married to with the dog isn't you. And I-I told you that I could deal with all of this," he hung his head, picking at his bed sheets and Kurt wasn't ready for what he was about to say.

"But I don't... I don't know if I can," Blaine's voice was wavering, tears dripping onto his jeans, making dark spots against the denim.

"Are you... Are you _breaking up with me?_" Kurt asked, almost horrified by just saying the words.

"No," Blaine assured him, though he didn't look Kurt in the eye. "But I can't even tell you how hard this is and I know it's seven-thousand times harder on you, but I can't just sit here anymore and watch you..."

"Watch me die?"

* * *

"Have you thought about NYADA?" Kurt asked as he finished the last coat of nail polish on Rachel's toes. She let out one long sigh, wiping at a spot of nail polish that got on her skin where Kurt had messed up.

"You know that's not why I asked you to sleep over tonight," She sighed, her ponytail bobbing as she twisted the cap back onto the bottle.

"I know," Kurt moaned, popping his neck. She could see one large, deep purple splotch on the side of his neck, saw how his clothes were hanging looser over his frame and how much thinner his hair was, the paleness of his already-pale skin. And it scared her. Kurt was the one person she could always count on and she was beginning to worry (well, beginning was an understatement) that he might not be her roommate in that tiny little New York apartment they'd been dreaming of. He might not give a speech at her wedding and she might not give a speech at his. Rachel didn't realise just how much she'd been taking life for granted.

"Kurt," she sighed as he tossed a piece of popcorn into the air, though it bounced off his lips.

"Rachel, don't," he said firmly. "Not right now. For once, I just want to have a conversation with someone where the fact that I have leukemia doesn't come up,"

She winced outwardly at his words. He stood up and walked over to her en suite, shutting the door behind himself. She stared at the spot he was just sitting in and wondered if she'd ever feel like she could accept him being gone.

"I'm just really going to miss you, is all," she whispered into the air.

* * *

Blaine sat in the lobby of the hospital, his back hunched with his hands clasped on his knee. Burt, Carole, Finn and Rachel all sat in chairs around him, waiting for a nurse to come back with Kurt's prognosis. The surgery wasn't a guarantee, and frankly it was their last shot at keeping Kurt here. His body hadn't been reacting to the chemotherapy the what that it was meant to, and Kurt had been spending more time in the hospital than he had been at home.

It was about the time that he and Rachel would have been apartment-hunting in New York.

Carole's hand was gripped tightly in her husband's, Rachel's head resting against Finn's shoulder and Blaine couldn't help but feel terribly lonely. Blaine's head shot up at every nurse walking past him, hoping that they would know anything about Kurt's condition regardless of what ward they worked in. Blaine wondered if what he said to Kurt the last time they spoke was the right thing to say, if their conversation had ended in a fight, or if he'd told Kurt he loved him enough.

Blaine couldn't remember the last thing he said to Kurt, and it was killing him.

Did he kiss him enough the last time they were together? Did he hold him close enough, tell him he was beautiful?

Just as he felt tears brimming in his eyes, a nurse walked up to them, a clipboard clutched in her hands. They all stood up, listening intently to what she was saying.

Words like, "risky" and "no guarantee" and "complications" and Blaine could hear that rushing back in his ears, the one he had the first time Kurt had told him about all of this. He could hear Rachel crying, saw Finn's lip tremble and heard Carole take one deep breath before choking it out. Blaine wondered where Kurt was and wanted to take him out for dinner tonight.

"I'm sorry, but Kurt didn't make it," the nurse said softly. "He fought for a very long time, and he was very tired,"

Blaine couldn't help the feeling of guilt knowing that he hadn't had a chance to say goodbye, not properly.

* * *

Blaine knelt down at Kurt's headstone, his fingers brushing the engraved words slowly. "I'm sorry I didn't come to your funeral," He whispered. "I just - I couldn't do it," Blaine fingered the rose in his hand briefly before placing it in front of him.

He felt like the words inscribed on Kurt's headstone didn't do his memory justice. But how can you decide just one thing to write to surmise someone's whole life? You'd always think back to things that should have been written or said during eulogies.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt," Blaine whispered again. "You're so strong, and I can only hope you're safe now. Happier," his voice was trembling and he felt so alone. "I love you so much,"

He straightened the rose on the grass, laying it down flatter.

"I promise I'll tell them about you," Blaine whimpered. "I won't let you down,"

Blaine stood up, giving the headstone one last glance before turning away.

_Kurt Elizabeth Hummel_

_1994-2012_

_Dear friend_

_Beloved son_

_"At least I'm flying free"_


End file.
